Villa Magdalena

The little girl stood in front of the imposing black gates of Villa Magdalena and peered down the driveway. The long avenue of cypress trees cut right through the site, culminating in a tantalizing glimpse of a primrose-yellow palazzo. It stood by with the dignity and proud demeanor of a Grand Duchess. Her high shuttered windows were an elegant pale duck green, her crown was a decorative balustrade along the apex of the gable, and her walls shone like silk; she belonged to a world as enchanting and inaccessible as that in fairy tales.

The bright Tuscan sun cast inky shadows across the driveway, and the girl could smell the sweet scents rising from the garden in the midday heat, saturating the air. She stood in her sandals and in her dingy sundress, her long brown hair, dull with dust and seawater, on her back and before her eyes, which were dark and pained, and full of longing. Around her neck she wore a pendant of the Virgin Mary that her mother had given her before she ran off with a man she'd met at the tomato stall in Piazza Laconda, taking her younger brother with her.

She often went to La Magdalena. She liked to climb the wall where it had partly collapsed, so that it was now low enough for her to step on. Then she would sit on top of it looking out over the beautiful gardens with stone fountains, graceful umbrella pines and marble statues of elegant ladies and half-naked men who, with their bodies twisted, had assumed theatrical poses full of love and longing. She liked to imagine living there, surrounded by all that heavenly splendor: a young lady who wore expensive dresses and beautiful shoes, adored by her mother who tied ribbons in her hair, and by a father who spoiled her with presents and threw her in the air and then with his strong, protective poor people received again; she came to La Magdalena to forget her own drunken father, and the little house on Via Roma that she worked so hard to keep clean.

Her small hands gripped the bars and she pressed her face against them to get a better look at the boy who was now chasing her with a mongrel dog. She knew he was going to tell her to leave, but she wanted to take another good look before running back down the path that snaked to the beach.

The boy was handsome and a lot older than her. His blond hair had been brushed out of his face and he looked friendly. He looked at her with bright, smiling eyes, and when she looked again, she saw that they were green. She didn't move and dared to stand until the last moment. Her fingers curled around the bars and she clenched her jaws firmly, but his grin disarmed her; it looked nothing like the facial expression of someone trying to chase her away. He reached into his pockets and picked her up through the gate. 'Hi there.' She didn't respond. Her mind told her to run, but her legs wouldn't obey. She stood staring at him, unable to tear her gaze away. 'Do you want to come in? She hadn't counted on such an invitation and straightened her back suspiciously. "Because you're obviously curious."

"I was just passing by," she replied. "So you can still talk?"

"Of course I can talk."

'I wasn't so sure about that. You looked quite startled.' "You don't scare me, if that's what you mean."

'Good.'

"I was alone on my way somewhere." "Funny, because it's pretty remote here otherwise."

'I know that. I was at the beach.' At least that wasn't a lie. "So you came up here to take a look?"

'It looks so beautiful. I noticed.' Her face brightened then

the villa came up and her gaze wandered longingly to the driveway. 'Come on in and I'll give you a tour of the garden

nen. My parents aren't there anyway, so I'm all alone. It's nice to be able to talk to someone.'"

I don't know…" Her gaze fell again, but he opened the gate. 'You do not have to be scared. I do

you no harm.'

"I'm not scared at all," she snapped back. 'I can do it for myself

take care of yourself, you know.' "That's all right."

She stepped inside and he closed the gate behind her. She saw that he locked it and for a moment fear gripped her heart, but then her eyes were drawn again through the villa and she forgot her fear. 'Do you live there?'

"Not all the time. I live in Milan most of the year, but we always come here in the summer.'

"Then I must have seen you."

'Oh yeah?'

The excitement that she was now standing on the grounds of the villa gave her courage. 'Yes. I'll keep an eye on things from the wall.'

"Little Thunderstone." I like to look at gardens. People don't interest me that much."

"Then I'll let you take a closer look now, so you don't have to spy anymore."

She walked beside him and her heart swelled with joy. 'Is this really already?

all yours?' "Well, from my father then."

"If this is your summer home, your home in Milan must be like a king's palace.